


The Truth Revealed

by petulantpages



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Family Secrets, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, HP: EWE, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-02 22:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13327752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petulantpages/pseuds/petulantpages
Summary: Harry and Draco are perfectly happy living in the country with their four beautiful children. Except for the massive, yet convincing charade they’ve put on for the kids, in which they insist Draco had no part in the war. When Scorpius finds out, Draco is afraid his son will never look at him the same way.Unedited and un-betaed, so please forgive any typos.Rated T for very brief implication of non-con.





	The Truth Revealed

“Why doesn’t Papa ever come to London with us, Dad?” Scorpius skipped over to the window of a broom shop, carefully looking over the changes in this newest Nimbus and, Harry knew, calculating exactly how much faster the broom would be. Scorpius was smart. Harry had him pinned for Ravenclaw. He smiled sadly at his son, who had paused in his musing to look expectantly back at him.

“He’s not fond of crowds, Scor. You know that.”

“Yeah, but he _never_ comes.”

“Maybe you should ask him to, next time, Scor. I’m sure he couldn’t say no those puppy eyes of yours,” James said, looking pointedly at his father. Harry returned a look that clearly said there was a Skivving Snackbox and a trip to Flortesque’s in it for him if he kept his mouth shut. “Hey, I’ll meet you all at Weasley’s, right?”

“Just keep it to a minimum,” Harry shouted after him as the thirteen-year-old shot through the crowd. He groaned inwardly, sure there would be a pile worth at least fifty galleons waiting for him when he finally caught up.

“Do you really think he would, Dad?” Scorpius was looking at him like the world was made of rainbows, and Harry shrugged awkwardly, trying hard to smile.

“I doubt it,” Lily said, joining the pair after tearing herself away from the Krup puppies in the window across the street. “I’ve got a better shot at convincing him to let me have a Krup.”

Scorpius’ face fell, and he looked so heartbroken that Harry felt he had to say something if he didn’t want the boy to be downtrodden the rest of the day. “I dunno, Scor, maybe. I’ll talk to him about it, alright? Come here. What do you and Al still need?” Harry looked up then, realizing the usually unstoppable chatter of his other son had been missing from the conversation. “Scor, where’s Al?”

Scorpius shrugged, looking at his shoe.

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, where is your brother?”

Those big grey eyes turned up again. “He said something about a cauldron that bites adults.”

Harry groaned. “Merlin, tell me he didn’t go to Knockturn Alley again.”

“Don’t look at me, that’s all I know.”

“ _I_ know where he went. And its got nothing to do with biting cauldrons.” Lily had her chest puffed out and her arms crossed, a teasing glint in her eye.

“Go on, then.”

“He’s ogling a _girl_.” She pointed, a long line from her shoulder to the tip of her slender finger, and when Harry followed her gaze, he spotted his son. Albus was, sure enough, leaning not-so-casually against Madam Malkins window and staring not-so-surreptitiously at a pair of girls sharing a sundae at Flortesque’s. Harry thought they were in at least their third year, he was sure he’d seen them at King’s Cross the last two years James had been going to Hogwarts.

“Brilliant,” he sighed, “Scorpius, could you fetch him and meet us at Potage’s? We need to pick up some cauldrons that don’t bite and your father needs a new silver one. Then we’ll go meet your brother at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”

Harry made sure to watch as Scorpius ran off, and shot a few withering glares at some of the passers by who looked like they might comment. They’d learned years ago that no one said anything when Harry was walking around with Draco’s son. It was only when Draco was around that suddenly Scorpius’ parentage made him a public menace. It was right after Astoria had vanished, leaving just a note, and Harry had offered to take all the kids to Diagon so Draco could think about where he wanted to go from there. It was the first time Harry had been out with Scorpius that no one had sneered at the boy, and he had a lot of memories to compare it to. He had grown closer to Draco after Ginny died in a Quidditch accident shortly after Lily was born. Before long, he’d been spending as much time with Draco and Scorpius as he was with his own kids. Draco had never talked much about his relationship with Astoria, and the few times Harry had seen her, she’d barely looked at Draco or her son. No one was all that surprised when she left, but it opened up a lot of options. When Harry had gotten home after that night at Diagon, Draco had practically thrown himself into his arms with a flurry of yeses. Which is how they ended up, for all intensive purposes, married. Draco was still married to Astoria, mainly because they couldn’t find the bint to get her to sign some divorce papers, but that life hardly seemed real, to anyone. Even Ron referred to Draco as Harry’s husband these days. It was their life, their home, their children… and their secrets. Which was why Draco never came to London.

“Dad? Where are you going?”

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and realized he had been about to walk right by Potage’s Cauldron Shop. He smiled at Lily and ran his hand over her hair as he redirected his steps and went into the shop.

* * *

 

“Tell me again why you thought you needed to buy James the deluxe Skiving Snackbox?”

“Look, Draco, you’re the one that wants to keep everything under wraps. If you don’t like my methods, tell Scorpius the truth.” Harry said, irritably settling himself into Draco’s arms and poking the blonde in the side. The kids had gone up to bed a little over an hour ago, and they’d returned to the usual topic these days, curled up in the living room in front of the fireplace. Harry loved that fireplace. It was his favorite part of the house. And not just because they’d christened the house on the rug in front of said fireplace.

“ _No_.”

“Look, I know it’s scary, but he’ll still love you. You’re a great father. He knows you’re not the man you were.” Draco didn’t spit off a string of curse words, like he usually did, so Harry pressed him. “Besides, Dray, he’s going to Hogwarts next month. Do you really think no one’s going to mention it to him? We can’t protect him forever. He needs to know what he’s walking into.”

“Harry, I can’t.”

“I’ll help you, Draco. It won’t be as bad as you think…”

“Never told you everything. There’s so much that I did… I can’t even bring myself to think about it. I still have nightmares, when you’re not here. It’s been nearly twenty years, Harry, and I still have nightmares.”

Harry turned so he could look up at his husband. The pale cheeks looked deathly white, even for Draco, and they were sparkling with quiet tears. The kind of tears that couldn’t be held in. Harry wiped them with his thumbs. “Draco, I know it was bad. I’m not saying it wasn’t. But he has to hear it from you.”

Suddenly Draco’s eyes lit up, furious, and he whipped out his wand. “Look, then. Look and tell me how I’m supposed to sit down with my son and tell him what I did.” He pointed the wand to his temple and shut his eyes, murmuring a spell under his breath that Harry didn’t quite catch. The purpose of it became clear, though, when images appeared in front of them, as if playing on a screen. And there was Voldemort, and he smiled wickedly. He was at the head of a long table, looking straight into the camera, as it were, or in this case, straight at Draco. The image faltered, fell to the surface of the table, where a pair of pale hands twitched around a familiar wand.

“ _Go on, Draco. Do the honors_.” One pale hand gripped the wand, raised it, and the image showed a young girl who Harry vaguely recognized from Hogwarts, a girl he’d seen around but whose name he hadn’t known. She was gasping, trying to speak but unable to form words, and then Draco’s voice filled the air.

“ _Avada Kedavra_.”

The girl’s body hit the table hard, and her head lolled to the side and looked right at Draco. He turned away.

The image swirled and a battle field was revealed through two rectangles, and they moved against the view from Draco’s eyes and Harry knew that this was the inside of a Death Eater mask, and he could see Draco’s wand arm raise, shaking slightly, towards a man who was screaming at two young boys to run, just run, and then there was Draco’s voice.

“ _Crucio_.” The image swirled again, and Draco was kneeling on the floor in Myrtle’s bathroom, his wand digging so deeply into his Dark Mark that his forearm bled. The wand was glowing, pulsing red and the mark seem to hiss and curl away from it, and Myrtle was giggling, “ _Won’t you give up, Draco? It’s not coming off. But I can think of some other things that will come off_.”

It swirled again, and Draco was laying on the battlefield now, and a man appeared, grinning lecherously down at him. As bolts of red and blue and green light shot around them, the man leaned down, and Harry could see Fenir Greyback's ugly mug. He loomed inches in front of Draco’s face, and suddenly the image jumped.

“ _No_ ,” Draco’s voice said, “ _No, not here. Not here. Just let me die_.”

And Fenir laughed as his hand worked somewhere off screen. Harry felt sick and clutched Draco closer to his side, but Draco shied away from the touch and the image was swirling again, this time to a scene Harry remembered all too well himself. The Battle of Hogwarts. And there was Draco, casting spells Harry didn’t recognize, and he saw Lavender Brown stumble to avoid one, hit her head, and then Greyback was on her. He saw something explode, and Fred diving out of the way. He saw Draco point his wand at him, at Harry, and then slowly raise it to his own head.

Then the image swirled again, and this time it continued to swirl, snatches of voices and images peeking out grotesquely as Draco killed and tortured and was tortured, and a maniacal laughter filled the room, the sound of Voldemort cackling as Draco lay down on the floor and shut his eyes and gasped and cried.

Finally the images stopped, and Harry turned to look at Draco, who was curled up into a tight ball, eyes shut, tears on his face, his lip bloody. Harry wrapped an arm around him, but Draco pushed him away. He opened his eyes to glare at the Gryffindor and bared his teeth. “Don’t you see, Potter? I don’t deserve this life. I don’t deserve happiness. I don’t deserve you. And I sure as hell don’t deserve my son. Do you know why Astoria left? She never wanted to marry me in the first place. She threw up after we kissed at our wedding. She had to get smashed to have sex with me. She only did it because it was her duty as a pureblood, because our families needed an heir. And when Scorpius was born she couldn’t look at him because he looked like me. Because to her, he looked like a monster. She left because of what I did. What I am.”

There was a loud crash that startled both men, followed by a thud, and they looked up to see a vase in the corner laying in pieces on the floor.

“Shit,” said Harry, “Shit.”

“Harry… please tell me you hid your invisibility cloak.”

Harry looked at his husband with wide-eyes that were already falling, screaming apologies. “I… I gave it to James. I thought he could have it at school… like I did, you know? I thought it would keep him quiet until I could talk you around.”

Draco scrambled to his feet, nearly pushing Harry off the couch, and buried his face in his hands. “He gave it to Scor, didn’t he? Harry, did he see… did he see everything?”

Harry nodded glumly. Draco started to laugh, a dark noise that seemed to come from the same part of his mind where he hid his worst memories. “Well, he fucking knows now, doesn’t he? Problem fucking solved, Potter! Brilliant work there, he’ll be able to tell all his new school mates just how unhinged dear old dad is when they go trying to poke fun. And if he never looks at me again, well at least he knows the _fucking_ truth!”

Harry stood up then and fixed his hands on Draco’s shoulders, firmly enough that the blonde couldn’t pull out of his grasp, and looked him in the eye until he was trying desperately to look anywhere but at Harry and a gentle flush had settled into his cheeks. “Better? Good. Now go upstairs and talk to your son.”

A look of horror flashed over Draco’s face. “How can I look at him after what he saw? Harry, he’ll hate me now. I can’t possibly….”

“You’re the adult, Draco. You have to talk to him. I’ll come up in a little while, but this needs to be about the pair of you. He’ll understand if you just talk to him.”

Draco bit his lip. “I don’t deserve for him to understand. What’s there to understand? I killed people, Harry.”

“It was bad times, Draco. It was a war, there was a mad man threatening you and your family. You didn’t want to do those things, you obviously suffered plenty yourself, and you’ve tried so hard to make up for it since then. Draco… I’m proud of you. Once he has a chance to think about it, he will be, too. And he knows, if nothing else, that you love him.” Harry took Draco’s face in his hands and pressed a long kiss to his lips. “Now go on.”

Slowly, Draco turned to the living room doors and made his way to the stairs.

* * *

 

The door to Scorpius and Albus’ room was slightly open, and the soft orange light of the table lamp was peeking into the hallway, and there were frantic whispers and soft sighs that almost sounded like sobs coming from the room, but Draco knocked anyway. Three short taps. The whispers stopped. The hinges creaked as one messy-haired, green-eyed kid smiled up at him. Albus slipped out of the room and gave Draco’s hand a squeeze. “Hi, Papa. I think I’ll go ask Dad for some tea.”

Draco swallowed and nodded, then he slid into the boys’ room and shut the door gently behind him. Scorpius looked up when it clicked, as if startled by the noise. “Sorry,” Draco said, his voice like sandpaper, “I can leave it open, if you didn’t want to be alone… I mean, I’d understand if… should I open it again?” He was already reaching for the handle.

“No. That’s ok.”

Draco froze for a moment, then lifted his hand to run it anxiously through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“For what? For keeping it from me? For me finding out? For me finding out like _that_? For being who you are? For having me? For keeping me?”

Draco’s head shot up at those last questions, and he couldn’t seem to shake his head hard enough to refute those claims so it wasn’t really any surprise when he found himself on his knees in front of his son, who was sat on the edge of his bed, frantically searching for a small hand to clutch at. “No, Scorpius, I could never, would never be sorry for having you, you’re the brightest part of my life. All you kids… I don’t deserve—”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Saying you don’t deserve stuff.”

Draco frowned. “But I—”

“I know what you did, don’t I? I saw the whole thing.” Scorpius shook off his dad’s hands and crossed his arms petulantly. “Sure it was bad, but you want us to suffer for it? You don’t think we should get to have you to make pancakes with and play Quidditch with and to give us annoying lectures about proper etiquette and to brew Pepper-Up when we get sick and to keep us all in shape? Do you know what this family would look like with Harry running things?”

Draco could tell his jaw was hanging open, but he wasn’t quite sure it shouldn’t be.

“I get that you feel bad and all, but what with genetics, I couldn’t possibly exist without you so I’m pretty glad you survived and if anybody else was my dad I wouldn’t be me, and I like me. So you can’t apologize for being my dad because that’s like apologizing for me existing at all, and you can’t say you don’t deserve me because that’s like saying I don’t deserve you, and since you didn’t answer my question I’ll have you know that if Harry were alone in this we’d all be stuck wearing only left shoes and perpetually an hour late, so yes, not deserving you is a very bad thing. And you can’t apologize for me finding out because I would have at Hogwarts anyway, and I have a right to know my family history, at the very least.” He paused, glaring at his dad. “Feel free to apologize for the rest of it, though.”

“What was the rest of it, again?”

Scorpius sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, which Draco could tell were red. His heart ached so much he nearly missed Scorpius’ response.

“For hiding it from me, for me finding out like that.”

Draco hung his head. “I didn’t want you to have to grow up with my shadow hanging over you. And then I was afraid once you found out….”

“Shove it, Dad, I already heard that part, remember? You didn’t have to come right out and tell me everything but you lied to me. I know I’ve asked you about your scars and why mum left and your tattoo. You lied to my face, about all of it.”

“I didn’t want you to—”

“For Merlin’s sake, Dad, you don’t get it. You didn’t do this for me. You did this because you were scared. You did it for you. Admit it.”

Draco looked into his son’s eyes. Despite the demanding tone he’d been using since Draco had entered the room, his grey eyes were soft, so Draco smiled gently at him. He thought about his own words as he moved to sit next to his son on the bed, and how he’d said what he meant and what he was feeling when he said it. “You’re right. I’m scared.”

“And?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

“And you’re an idiot. Say it.”

Draco laughed. “What makes me an idiot?”

“For thinking I wouldn’t love you anymore when I found out.”

Draco blinked. “What? You… but you saw what I did…” “Yeah. I saw a terrified teenager doing some really awful stuff and being tormented by the people telling him to do it. In case you haven’t noticed, it doesn’t seem to have effected me the last eleven years, why should it now?”

“The kids at Hogwarts will be mean. A lot of them lost family in the war.”

“And I’ll have Albus with me. And James said he and Rose stick up for you, when they hear things.”

“James was in here, too?”

Scorpius shot him a look that plainly said he wasn’t sure how he’d come from such a stupid man.

“He wanted the cloak back.” Of course he did.

“Alright, fine. I’m an idiot.”

“Happy to hear it.”

There were two taps at the door and Harry tucked his head into the room. “Anyone want tea?”

Scorpius hummed and Draco smiled gently at Harry, so he entered the room, trailed by Albus who promptly leapt onto Scorpius’ bed. Draco bit his tongue. Under the circumstances, he didn’t want to push the kids too much.

“Wow, you _are_ worried about us thinking you’re evil now, aren’t you?” Albus giggled, leaning into Draco’s face. “You won’t even yell at me for jumping on the bed.”

Draco spluttered, and Harry growled. “Albus Severus, that’s no way to talk to your Papa.”

“See? Dad doesn’t mind yelling at me.”

“I just don’t want to…” Draco thought about it. He wasn’t sure what he was afraid of, exactly. Biting his lip, he looked at his husband and their sons.

“Dad,” Scorpius said. “It’s bad. We all get that. But it’s not the end of the world, and it won’t get better as long as we’re all walking on eggshells.”

Draco sighed, but forced a smile. He reached out and grabbed the still-bouncing Albus around the middle, lightly tickling the boy’s sides. “Then I suppose I’d better punish you for bouncing on the bed, shouldn’t I?” he teased, increasing his tickling efforts and grinning as his son collapsed into giggles on his lap. He reached out and hauled Scorpius into the heap, laughing himself as Harry joined in with the tickle attack. When James ran into the room, shouting “Geronimo” as he leapt onto the bed with them, and Lily followed, whinging about being left out until Draco hauled her into the pile and she snuggled into his chest, the family settled into a tight mesh of contentment, snuggled together on Scorpius’ bed. Draco looked over them all, and met Harry’s cheerfully sparkling eyes.

He couldn’t help but think, if his family could forgive him, maybe he could start to forgive himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a little rushed, and maybe I should have gone the long, "Scorpius-has-to-come-to-terms-with-his-Dad's-past" route, but I wanted this to be more about Draco forgiving himself. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
